


You're Safe

by LetMeEntertainYou



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: CPTSD, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, PTSD, Past Child Abuse, flash back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 14:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18853000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetMeEntertainYou/pseuds/LetMeEntertainYou
Summary: His hand was on the doorknob when he heard the tiniest, “Dad?”Brian looked back, confused as to why Roger would say that. His heart dipped when he saw Roger.His eyes were still gigantic, but with fear this time. Tears were spilling from them, his whole entire body shaking as he took a step back.Again, in that tiny, terrified voice, Roger said, “D-Dad? What are you doing?”





	You're Safe

**Author's Note:**

> My blog is Disabled-Queen-HC on tumblr.  
> Anon asked: I didn't follow what the person asked 4 so who cares lol ole

Roger threw his drum sticks down, arms flying up into the air. He had on a mocking expression, a irritated smile on his face. “Brian, what the bloody hell is wrong with you today?” he yelled, having had it with Brian’s attitude and performance in the studio today.

Brian rolled his eyes, shrugging. This was Roger’s third explosion of the day and it wasn’t even 4pm yet. “Nothing much. What’s wrong with  _you_?” he quipped back.

“Me? You’re the one all over the goddamn place. We’re wasting tape here! Can you get yourself together, for the love of god,” Roger seethed, collecting his drumsticks off the floor with an annoyed sigh.

Brian just shook his head, taking in a deep breath. Maybe he was making mistakes, but so was everyone else, including Roger. For some reason Roger chose today to make Brian his punching bag. He usually took it like a champ, but he was tired today. His hangover from a night of partying was still lingering, a slight ache in his joints. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back his punches.

“Can we just try again? Please?” Brian pleaded, fingers finding their place on the fret, pence ready to pluck on the other hand. He wished he could make time move faster. Or muzzle Roger.

“Only if you’re not gonna fuck this up!” Roger said, shaking his head to get some hair out of his face.

Meanwhile, Freddie and John just listened and watched, not knowing what to do. Roger was in a pissy mood and there was no rationalizing with a pissy Roger. You just had to leave him alone to finish his tantrums most times. The two were beginning to feel like that time was approaching.

Freddie looked around awkwardly before cautiously saying, “Ahem. Well…1…2…1, 2, 3, 4,”

They started out fine. Freddie was hitting the notes, John keeping beat, Brian in key. It was Roger who messed up, playing one the cymbals far too early. He let out a frustrated groan, barking out a ‘Fuck!’ before throwing his sticks once again.

Freddie had enough of that. Time to let the toddler work it out himself. He raised his hand up, letting everyone know it was time for a break. They (or at least  _somebody_ ) kept messing up and there was no point in purposefully wasting tape. They’d meet back up in an hour or so.

John couldn’t get out of the room fast enough, trailed by Freddie who shot Brian a questioning look when he made no attempt to leave. Brian shook his head, mouthing “I got this”

Once the door was closed and they were alone, Brian walked over to his seething friend. Obviously something was up with him. Something was bothering Roger and he was taking it out on the rest of them.

He dragged a chair over to Roger’s drum kit where Roger still sat, breathing hard, and sat down, crossing his legs.

“What’s the matter, mate?”

“Nothing,” Roger immediately answered, rubbing the tip of his shoe into the carpet.

“I think you know that’s bullshit,” Brian said, an eyebrow raised.

“Well, it’s the truth. I’m just tired of everyone fucking up. That’s all,”Roger spat back, standing up and kicking his stool out of the way before walking away from his kit. He crossed his arms, staring out of the recording booth with furrowed eyebrows. 

Brian quietly sighed, expecting no less from the Roger. When he got into his feelings, there was hell to pay. Even if you didn’t do anything to deserve it. 

Brian spun around in his chair to look at Roger, saying, “We don’t have to get into the nitty gritty of it. Can you just..help me understand what’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s got me worked up! It’s you all pissing me off. Now can you fucking go and leave me alone? That would make me feel better. You getting the fuck away from me,” Roger exploded, blue eyes wild as they bore into Brian.

Brian shrunk back but nodded. Fair enough. Today was a bad day. It happened. Fine by him. He got up, walking past Roger who was breathing in deeply, heading to the door to leave. Get some food and forget about the blond for a bit. 

His hand was on the doorknob when he heard the tiniest, “Dad?”

Brian looked back, confused as to why Roger would say that. His heart dipped when he saw Roger.

His eyes were still gigantic, but with fear this time. Tears were spilling from them, his whole entire body shaking as he took a step back. 

Again, in that tiny, terrified voice, Roger said, “D-Dad? What are you doing?”

Brian looked around himself and then at Roger, utterly at a loss for words. Was this some weird joke? Roger was a funny guy, but this wasn’t. Whatever this was.

Roger took another step back before falling onto the ground, continuing his rush to get away from something Brian couldn’t see. His crying grew more erratic, flinching at every movement, hands going up to cover- no- protect his face.

“Dad, p-please. Please. You smell like beer. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” he curled up, sobbing so hard he’d wheeze to catch his breath.

Brian sniffed his shirt, his pores reeking of the alcohol from the night before. 

He still didn’t understand any of this. But he couldn’t just watch his friend go through whatever this was. 

He approached, causing Roger to start screaming for help, shoving himself into the farthest corner he could find. Roger was a full grown man, but he’d never look so small before. 

“Please! I’ve been good! I’ve been good! I’ve been good!” he screeched, legs kicking out in front of him. 

Brian approached slower, hands up in front of him, whispering loud enough for Roger to here, “Hey, hey. Roger, it’s me, Brian, your friend. Your friend. I’m not gonna hurt you. You know I’d never hurt you. Never in a million years. You’re safe. I won’t let anything touch you, Rog, I promise,”

He was finally within arms reach of Roger, who kept crying, but stopped flailing. Brian brought his hand slowly onto Roger’s shoulder, a feather light touch that made the drummer wail. The sound was horrible, breaking Brian’s heart into a million pieces, his hand immediately being retracted. 

“I’m sorry, Roger. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. Roger, I’m so sorry,” Brian whispered but Roger didn’t seem to listen, squeezing himself tighter into the corner.

Clearly, Roger wasn’t there right now. Whatever this was, he was far off in the recesses of his mind. He needed to be grounded. Something Brian was fairly good at because of his depression. He prayed it’d work.

“Roger. We’re in a recording studio right now in Munich, Germany. It’s September. We’re both on the floor, right now. You’re reliving some memories, I think. But they’re just memories, Rog. You’re safe where you are. Your dad isn’t here. It’s just you and me, Brian. You know I’ll protect you,” 

It took a few minutes of Brian slowly talking to bring Roger down. Roger’s eyes seemed to finally focus on Brian instead of the empty space before him. The tears stopped. Clarity took over his face. 

Roger looked around for a moment before looking at Brian. Without hesitating, he launched himself into Brian’s lap, face burying into his neck. Brian wrapped his arms around the trembling Roger, rubbing his back soothingly with one hand, and petting Roger’s head with the other.

“I got you, Rog. You’re safe,”

Roger was crying again, but this time from relief.

“It felt so real,” he blubbered, holding onto Brian so tight it hurt. 

“I know, Rog. It’s okay now. Just breathe,”

“I could see and smell him. I could feel his hands. I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t!”

Brian rocked them as he listened to Roger, affirming everything he said, every feeling he had.

Roger was able to come down from his adrenaline high, but refused to let go of Brian. He had no idea what had just happened and was too scared to let go. What if it happened again?

The door opened, making Roger jump, not too far though with Brian holding onto him steadfast.

Freddie and John walked in, puzzled looks on their faces.

“Looks like you two made up,” Freddie commented.

Brian shot him a look but ushered the two over to join them on the floor. Freddie and John noticed Rogers splotchy, tear streaked face, sweat matted hair and shaky frame and understood. Something happened and now it was time to comfort him. Questions could be asked later.

The floor of them laid on the floor, hugging and cuddling Roger, stroking his cheeks and massaging his shoulders. The three of them got Roger calm enough for him to drift off, body exhausted after going through a flashback.

Roger felt so warm and safe that when he woke up to Brian, trailed by the others, carrying him to his car, he just made himself comfy in his arms, falling back asleep.

He woke up again, hours later, in his bed and still in Brian’s gentle embrace.

There’d be so much to talk about tomorrow. So much to explain and try to comprehend. But for now, he was alive, in one piece and protected by a curly haired angel. He nuzzled into Brian’s chest, the tides of slumber stealing his conciousness away.


End file.
